Watching and Waiting
by Galenfea
Summary: Éomer thinks about Éowyn as he waits in the Houses of Healing for Aragorn to heal her.


_As ever, all the characters and situations belong to Tolkien. This is mainly movie-verse, as, though the immediate situation could fit in both, there are references to other events that happened in the movie._

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Where is he? If she dies because of his delay, I will kill him with my bare hands.

No, no, that is unjust. The fault does not lie with him, but with me. I, who failed the one I love most. How could I not have foreseen this? How was I ignorant of her despair? How did I not even see her among the men, when I walked among them every day? Did I know her so poorly that I did not know that she would ride among us?

Oh, Éowyn, how I have failed you.

I remember the last time I saw her before I left Dunharrow – as did she, I know now. She seemed… well, as I would have expected, given that I and our uncle were riding to war, probably to our deaths. Unhappy at Aragorn's departure, it is true, but I saw nothing in her that would suggest that she intended to ride with us. I know full well that she felt something for him and I thought that he felt the same for her, though I was clearly wrong. Maybe it is not all my doing. I wonder what he said to her, before he left?

Perhaps it is not my concern. If he can heal her of her injuries and this strange sickness, then I will think of his part in this no longer.

But how did this come to pass? My sister lies dying before me and I can do nothing. Could I have known that she wished to go to war?

I remember the night before we rode. What was it that she said? She was encouraging Merry and I spoke harshly to her, I told her of the horror of war, the horror that I now feel more acutely than I ever have, more even than when Théodred died. He was a soldier, as I am. We both knew full well what it meant to go to war. We had prepared for it all our lives, but Éowyn…

Oh, Éowyn, you spoke so fiercely of fighting for those that you love. Of whom did you speak, Éowyn? Me? Our uncle? Aragorn, perhaps? What drove you to this? How did I not know that you loved him so deeply? How did I not see that my words had not brought you to your senses?

Your face is so cold to my touch. Where is Aragorn? He told me that he would come, he swore to me that he could heal you.

Perhaps I will never know what drove you to don armour and follow us to war. Perhaps it is not my concern. But, my dear sister, I wish that I could have foreseen it. I wish that I had known.

I think back to our last conversation. I remember the note in her voice that I took for fear. But now I think I was wrong. Even at the time I thought it strange; I have never known her to be afraid. Not since she was a little girl, and I used to have to catch the spiders that found their way into her room. How well I remember her coming running to me, her hair falling about her face, her eyes wide, telling me that there was a spider above her bed. I always knew what ailed her just by looking at her. Now she is grown, and it seems that I have lost my knowledge. I no longer know what she is thinking. I can no longer tell her fear from her despair.

Is she to die because of it?

I know now that the signs were there. She had grown ever more unhappy through the long years. And on that night, her words… I should have seen it. Why did I not?

I know that this achieves nothing. When have I ever been able to prevent Éowyn from doing as she wished? But if I had only known… I would have been beside her. Had I seen her there, had I known she was with me, had I not thought her safe at Dunharrow, waiting for my return, I might have been able to protect her. Better that I should be the one lying on that litter, so cold and still. Better I than my dear sister.

But what could I have achieved? I knew where my uncle was, and yet he fell. But he was a warrior, he did not ask for or desire or need my protection. I led my éored as he commanded. I wonder where she was riding? Did she follow me? Gamling? Grimbold? Was she among my uncle's guards? She lay near him, that I know, near the body of the fell beast, the dwimmerlaik's steed. Did she succeed in protecting him? Succeed where I had failed? I know not what foul fate that creature might have intended for my uncle. Did Éowyn fall protecting him? I know not. For the moment, I truly care not. However she fell, I would that I had been in her place.

Better yet, I would that I had seen the despair that drove her to ride, that I had seen it before this moment, when she lies dying before my eyes. Perhaps I might have comforted her. Perhaps my neglect drove her to feel that only in battle might her heart be eased. I did all I could to protect her. I suffered banishment for my attempt to defend her honour from Wormtongue, and I do not regret it. I regret only that she was then forced to suffer his presence and our uncle's dotage alone. Perhaps had I been less rash I might then have stood beside her. Perhaps then…

Once more, my mind runs in circles.

I like not the look in that woman's eye. I think she wonders what a man who is yet hale is doing here. She knows not that I too have suffered a wound that grows more painful the longer I wait. I think she has seen Éowyn. Now she understands. I will not look at her; I like not her look of pity for me, as for a man who has already lost one that he loves above his own life.

Where is Aragorn? My sister's face grows still more chill. I hardly think that she yet breathes, but when I hold my hand before her lips there is a little warmth. She lives. But for how much longer? And how much longer must I bear this torment alone?

Wait, I think I see him. Aragorn, my sister needs your care, and if you do not come I shall drag you.

Good. He is coming. Now I must watch, and hope.


End file.
